


Voided Soul

by DeathGlobalZone



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Apathy, Existentialism, F/M, Fluff, I have no self control, I'm Bad At Summaries, Never - Freeform, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is a Dancer, Reader-Insert, Romance, death mentions, discovering what its like to feel again, lets explore the void, reader basically has amnesia, reader is strange, when will i stop making new stories?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathGlobalZone/pseuds/DeathGlobalZone
Summary: You don’t know how long you’d been wandering the featureless plane- your feet didn’t hurt, you weren’t hungry or thirsty, you weren’t tired, nothing.(Y/N) doesn't remember much. She doesn't know how long she's been in the Void, either....Does she exist?





	Voided Soul

**XxX**

You don’t know how long you’d been wandering the featureless plane- your feet didn’t hurt, you weren’t hungry or thirsty, you weren’t tired, nothing. To be completely fair, it sort of reminded you of the space between the ‘real world’ and the Upside-Down from Stranger Things- the ground was covered in a thin sheet of glassy black water, (or was it deep? Or shallow? Or a good depth for wading? It changes sometimes. Currently, it’s puddle-deep.) water that extended in all directions, reflecting only you. There was no light, but you could see perfectly fine. The surrounding area was all black, the air thin, but if you really started to think about it, the air started to thicken to pudding-levels.

  _‘Mmmm… Pudding…’_ you thought dazedly.

 Bare feet splash quietly through the water, though they do not get wet- what a paradox. Your black dress flows dramatically behind you as you drift from here to there with no rhyme or reason, mostly just that you wanted to.

 The dress is the type that buttons all the way up, with cold shoulders and long bell sleeves that tightened again at the wrist; the dress was fitted at the bust and down to the waist before flaring out and reaching to the ground, long enough to even trail behind you on the floor, mostly covering your legs, though they would peak through the slit in front. Your legs themselves are bare, except for a pair of black, slouchy leg-warmers and a pair of black athletic shorts that stop midway down your thigh. Your (h/c) hair also trails behind you, unbound and soft with a gentle curl. Your makeup is also done, or so you surmise from the slight weight to your lashes and brows, and what glimpses you have seen of your reflection.

 You decide that you look quite nice. Dramatic, slightly spooky, but nice.

 What had you been doing before you entered this plane?

 You don’t know.

 Life is strange.

 Or… is this death? You have the distinct feeling that you’ve died. But you also feel as though you died without regrets, almost as though you were just falling asleep. (At least, that’s what you’d like to think. You don’t really know who you are right now.)

 At some point, you’d ended up floating on your back in this endless black expanse (the water had deepened again), considering existence. What is existence? What does it mean to exist?  To exist is to have the ability to interact with reality, but what was reality? Is it what we perceive to be true? What if people’s realities don’t quite match up? But do other people really exist?

 You don’t know what existence feels like.

 …

 Do you exist?

**XxX**

 It’s been so long. Or has it been no time at all?

 There was no light, no rise and fall of temperature or noises outside of your own breathing. It was just… dark, darker, yet darker- it was darker than any night you could remember (which were never actually all that dark, now that you think about it. At least compared to _this_ ). Time doesn’t exist- it never really did, but you had the illusion of it. Nothing here changed for more than a second (or did it last a year?) before returning to its previous state. Time was a man-made construct, and this place was not man-made.

 It was void of time, life, color, light… everything.

 You decided to call this place the Void.

 You also decide you like the Void. It was peacefully melancholic.

 Unknown to you, the Void decides it likes you, too.

**XxX**

 There was something… there. This causes you to pause.

 There was never anything, except the Void. Sometimes, it spoke to you, and you could almost hear its voice. You had grown fond of the Void.

 With no particular hurry, you head toward the something. It takes no time at all (or does it take eons?) for you to see another figure. You have to look at it for a while, really studying it just in case your eyes were playing tricks on you.

 They weren’t.

 With a new sense a wonder, you splash across the water’s surface to the man- skeleton? A skeleton man? Well, you’re literally in Nothing given sentience, so you’ve definitely seen stranger things. “Hello!” you call, voice seemingly too loud after so long in silence.

 The stranger starts, turning towards you with his eye sockets wide in surprise.

 “I’m (Y/n)! Welcome to the Void!”

 “The… void?” he asks, cautious and curious.

 “No,” you shake your head lightly. “The Void- you have to capitalize it.”

“Are you the… caretaker of the Void?” the stranger asks, and this prompts you to laugh.

“Of course not!” Your smile is bright even in the gloom. “I’m a resident of the Void, and your new neighbor!”

The skeleton-man looks at you strangely, like a specimen he’d like to study for a long, long time. You just continue to smile serenely, if not a tad bit peculiarly as his lavender eye-lights, that took up some of the black void (un-capitalized, obviously) of his eye sockets as though they were pupils, really drank in your appearance. Of course, you study him in turn, taking in his long black lab coat over a dapper black suit with a turtleneck that’s such a pale purple that it’s almost white under it. His large hands have holes in the palms, but there is no skin, only hard bone, fingers long and thin and segmented like a highly-detailed marionette puppet, or ball joint doll. His face is a plain white expanse, his right eye half lidded with a line- or is it a crack?- that goes up and over his cranium, while his left eye is just fine but also has a crack/line that goes down to meet his mouth. Finally, this stranger is tall, inhumanly so, a good foot taller than you.

You decide he’s beautiful.

He decides you’re strange.

“Well?” you finally break the silence, smile still soft and unintentionally eerie. “What’s your name?”

The stranger blinks, surprised that the quiet had been so gently shattered. “I apologize. My name is W.D. Gaster.”

Your smile broadens. “It’s nice to meet you!”

**XxX**

It was slightly easier now to tell the passage of time, now that you had another living(?) and tangible being with you. You and Gaster had spent quite a while talking, where he asked you all about human culture, and you did your best to answer. In turn, he told you about the monsters stuck under Mt. Ebott, which you took in stride. You don’t mention that you’d never heard of it. When his questions and anecdotes ran out, your conversations drifted to other topics such as astronomy, music, and pastimes. Happily, you regaled him with the human legends behind the constellations, as many as you could remember from as many different cultures as you could remember. You recalled more recent events, like the picture of the black hole, and the moon landing, and Opportunity, the rover sent to Mars.

You discovered that you both enjoyed some of the same music, mostly classical as that comprised the majority of music available in the underground. You tried telling Gaster about other music, such as industrial and classic rock and neo-classical, but it was hard without any instruments to play or a radio. You did your best to hum the tunes or sing the words, but you were no musician so they were often off key, and you always apologized for your lack of talent. Gaster always reassured you that your voice was fine, and that he looked forward to hearing all the songs you remembered so fondly.

However, he always looked sad when talking about the future, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. The future, while uncertain, is yours for the making, right?

You both enjoyed reading, though he preferred non-fiction and research-type books while you preferred high-fantasy and adventure, with a secret love of more sadistic and macabre stories. You also enjoyed dancing, it was making art with your body, and Gaster admitted he’d never really seen anyone dance- it wasn’t uncommon in the Underground, but it was something he never really paid attention to.

To be completely honest, you were a little offended.

Sometimes, after the two of you had lapsed into a comfortable silence after talking for what seemed like hours, he’d start talking about himself. You learned that he was the Royal Scientist, and how he ended up here in the Void by falling into the Core, the machine that powered the entire Underground. Even rarer was when he talked about his family, his long-gone wife and their two children, Sans and Papyrus.

You were slightly envious that he could remember his life, and death, so well, while yours was more like a piece of black-out poetry- a few words to give an idea of the original text, if one was lucky.

You are not lucky.

You remember you like to dance, and that you like to read and listen to music but… you didn’t know yourself, and that scared you. When Gaster talked about his life, sometimes you just couldn’t take it and had to leave. You couldn’t join in the remembering, you didn’t know if you had any children or sibling or any family at all. He didn’t like being alone, he was scared of the infinity of the Void and often tried to get you to stay with him longer, but you embraced the Void and its melancholic peace much easier than Gaster’s nigh-on chaotic melancholy. You didn’t have to think in the Void, You didn’t have to exist. You didn’t have to do anything but what you wanted to do.

You were fond of Gaster, yes, but he made you feel things you didn’t like. He made you warm and hot and cold, made your heart and mind race to keep up with his dry wit and strange smiles when he thought you weren’t looking. You didn’t understand these things, and you didn’t like his chaotic feelings. But you understood the Void, and enjoyed it’s soothing peace.

The Void just wanted company, and you wanted quiet, and so whenever you needed to escape the envy and heart palpitations and the warm/heat/cold, the Void would envelop you in soft tendrils and take you away to a different area where it’s just you and the Void and you can just be. Gaster was always so relieved to see you after you silently disappeared from his side, and it hurt you to see him worry- but his damn emotions are what pushed you away in the first place!

Your thoughts are getting confused.

Gaster made you confused.

**XxX**

There was another something, but you almost don’t notice it. You thought it was just Gaster, for their presences were incredibly similar, but this one felt… colder. More chaotic, but far more contained. Slowly, you follow this something to the source, and again you have to pause to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Before stands another skeleton-man, this one even taller than Gaster, a feat you hadn’t ever considered being possible. He resembled Gaster in an almost uncanny way, same crack-lines on his face (though, being honest, they looked much more like cracks due to trauma), same drooping eye, same large hands with holes in the palms. However, he seemed… more sharp- his cheekbones, his eye-lights a piercing scarlet, the line of his shoulders-

This was not the Gaster you knew, but you approached still.

“Hello,” you say quietly, coming to a stop several feet away from him. He had been studying you in return as you had studied him, and the corner of his mouth raises in a smirk. With a single stride, he is but a foot from you, and gently takes your hand in his.

“Hello~” he responds, bending at the waist and kissing the back of your hand and making you flush hotly. His voice was deeper and slightly more gravelly than Gaster’s, but no less succinct. “And who might you be?”

“I-I’m (Y/N),” you stutter, taking him in with wide eyes. This was _definitely_ not your Gaster.

“A pleasure,” he straightens up. “My name is W. D. Gaster.”

“What does W. D. stand for?” you ask. You hadn’t asked the other skeleton man for some reason, but you decided to ask this one.

“Wing Dings. If you so desire, you may call me Wings.”

You take the hand still holding yours in both hands, raising it up to your face where you place a gentle kiss to his knuckles. They felt like porcelain. You smile up at him gently, eyes bright with curiosity. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Wings.”

Wings decided you were beautiful.

You decided he was strange.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to stop. This has been in my drafts basically since the first chapter of SitD and I finally finished it up and posted it.


End file.
